Chapter 4: Si vic pacem - 2 Amico Amicus
by Darkpenn
Summary: As Wick moves closer to the High Table - he gains allies. But are they really on his side?


_Author's Note: This is the second part of _John Wick, Chapter 4: Si vic pacem_. It follows _In Nomine Patris.

**1.****Amico Amicus**

1

Wick had always liked London, or at least liked it as much as he liked anywhere. He had been here with Helen once; they had fed the ducks in Hyde Park. It had been a warm day, not unlike this day.

He had considered staying at the London Continental, as he was no longer _excommunicado_ and no longer had a bounty on his head. But the move seemed ostentatiously bold, so instead he had booked a room in a small, civilian hotel recommended by Winston. He had used a false name.

He was a little surprised when the desk clerk said to him, when he arrived: "Mister Candle? There is a message for you."

Wick read the note.

_Marble Arch Tea-room, 3.00. Charon._

_PS. Your dog is well._

So Wick went to the Marble Arch Tea-room, arriving a little before 3.00. He ordered tea for two.

At exactly 3.00 another person sat down.

"John," he said.

"Cassian," said Wick.

"Are you working?" said Cassian. "Is that why you are in London?"

"Let's say … that I am working for myself."

Cassian nodded slowly. "As my brother Charon suggested," he said.

Wick said nothing. But he thought: _Brother. Well, it makes a sort of sense._

Cassian was silent for a long while. Then he said: "You present me with a dilemma, John. You killed my ward, and so I am obliged to kill you. But in New York you could have killed me on the train. All you had to do was pull the knife out and that would have been the end. You did not. So here I am."

"Still alive," said Wick. "And I am not sorry to see it."

The tea arrived. They sipped at it.

"There were … consequences … on the death of my ward," said Cassian. "I am no longer welcome at the High Table. So I have had to seek employment elsewhere. That I could at least do so is something else, I suppose, that I have to to thank you for. If Santino D'Antonio had taken his seat at the High Table I would surely be dead now."

Wick nodded. "Your new employment," he said. "I assume that this is why you are here now."

"It is. I will take you to my employer, who like you has a … certain amount of ill-feeling towards the High Table. He believes that you might be able to help each other."

They finished their tea and caught a cab to an expensive hotel. Cassian led Wick to a penthouse suite, and there was his new employer.

Akoni.

"Mister Wick, Mister Wick, it is a pleasure to meet you at last," he said, gesturing for Wick to take seat. "We were in Rome at the same time but our paths did not cross. You are well, I trust?"

"Can't complain," said Wick.

"Ah, good, good. And here we are in London. I love London. I come here to get away from my wives. They are a constant trouble to me. And I like to see the stage shows of Mister Andrew Lloyd Webber. Do you like _Cats_, Mr Wick?"

"I'm more of a dog person," said Wick.

Akoni stared at him. "I … see," he said. "Well, to business. I must thank you for ridding me of not just one but two members of the D'Antonio family. For that I would like to give you a sum of money. To show my appreciation."

"Please don't," said Wick. "I killed Gianna D'Antonio as a matter of obligation, and I have no desire to be reminded of it. I killed Santino D'Antonio because, well, he needed killing."

Akoni stared at him.

"I … see," he said again. "Mister Wick, do you know why I was in Rome?"

"To see _Il Fantasma dell'Opera_?" said Wick.

"To … ? Ah, I see, a joke. No, Mister Wick. It was to ask Gianna D'Antonio to cease her attempt to take over my organisation. Needless to say, I was not successful. She said she would proceed, which would turn me into nothing more than another of the High Table's employees. Then you stepped in. That caused a delay in the High Table's plan but not, I believe, for long. In fact, the reason I am in London is to speak at the meeting of the High Table to arrange a deal."

"The High Table," said Wick, "does not deal."

"Yes, I know. They merely tell you what they will give you, which is usually very little. I plan to ask to be allowed to continue as head of my organisation, under the Table. I do not rate my chances of success highly but I need to be able to say to my colleagues in Africa that I made the attempt."

He leaned back in his seat.

"Mister Wick," he said. "Do you know what the High Table is currently concerned with? Disruption. Crime is a business, much like other types of business, and the established players are always worried that newcomers will rise up and eventually snatch part of their business away. And then all of it. So the High Table is doing everything possible to prevent newcomers from growing too powerful. Newcomers in Africa, South America, Asia. The High Table seeks to absorb them and, if it cannot do that, it will destroy them.

"So you see I have every reason to want to see that your actions against the High Table, whatever they might be, are successful. Others in a similar position to myself have given me the authority to supply you with whatever resources you might need. Money? Men? I can give you an army."

"I do not need an army," said Wick.

Cassian stepped forward. "Then perhaps we can give you something that you might find useful," he said. He took a key-card from his pocket. "This will get you past the first level of security at the hotel where the High Table is meeting. And there is this."

He took a wooden box from a side table and opened it. A gun. "I understand that you like the Italians and the Austrians but perhaps this will work for you," he said.

Glock seven millimetre. The most common handgun in the world. Robust, simple, effective. Nothing fancy about it.

Wick took it from the box and examined it. "Works for me," he said. Cassian handed him extra clips. And a card with a telephone number.

Wick turned to Akoni. "I thank you for your offer, and I will consider it," he said. "But my business with the High Table is personal. There is something I need to get back. After my work here is done, all I will want is to be left alone."

"Good luck with that," murmured Cassian.

2

Operator, Control had not heard the small, well-dressed man enter Administration, but there he was. He took a dark disk from his pocket.

"I am an Adjudicator," he said. "I speak on behalf of the High Table."

"Well, snaps to you," said OC, taking a drag on her cigarette. "What happened to the other one? The party girl with a bayonet up her ass? I liked her. She was a ton of fun."

"She no longer holds a position of authority under the Table. But while she did, she mentioned that this office holds an asset that we would like to utilise. Take her to Head Office for a short period."

"Uh-huh. And what asset would that be?"

"I believe that one of your people is a leading authority on a certain individual. A Mister John Wick."

OC smiled, as much as she ever did. She gestured for Elizabeth to join them.

"Elizabeth," she said. "It appears that the High Table want you to tell them about John Wick. At Head Office."

Elizabeth stared at OC, and then at the Adjudicator.

"It is a great pity," said OC to the Adjudicator, "that I cannot spare her. She is essential to the efficient operation of this office."

Elizabeth stared again at OC, trying not to appear amazed.

The Adjudicator raised an eyebrow. "I speak on behalf of the High Table," he repeated.

"Yeah yeah, yada yada," said OC. "Perhaps, then, you can make her an offer that I might find acceptable."

The Adjudicator raised his other eyebrow. "Do you mean money?" he said.

"No," said OC. "I mean time. Perhaps if you were able to reduce the period remaining in her work contract by, say, four years, I might be persuaded to let her go. On a temporary transfer basis, you might say."

The Adjudicator removed his glasses and polished them. "It might be possible, in principle," he said. "But certainly not for four years. Two, at the most."

"Three."

"Hmm. Very well, three."

OC glanced at Elizabeth. Elizabeth, stunned by what was happening, could only nod.

"When do we leave?" said Elizabeth to the Adjudicator.

"As soon as you get your coat and bag, Miss Elizabeth," he said.

END (to be continued)


End file.
